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The Story Behind The F Word | Part 2

I was a mere toddler when I saw what they meant by male privileges. When everyone was so obsessed with a boy-child, a girl was disregarded and often ignored in the scheme of things. And I was quick to realise that the forgotten gifts weren’t just merely forgotten or that my accidental exclusion from the video games exchange between my brothers wasn’t just a mere accident.

Everything had a deeper motive that was always related to the reason why my mother was always upset.

And I was quick to realise that the reason why nobody would teach me cricket, except my sister, wasn’t just related to them finding no time for me.

I often saw how nobody was in charge of their own lives and how everyone was just drifting along in something dark and mysterious that seemed to control them – was it blind faith, blind loyalty, blind sacrifice? I didn’t know. I just knew that it made them blind and full of hatred.

Everyone was hated on, especially the girls. The girls were hated in the most ruthless manner – by other girls, by boys, by their uncles and aunts, by the society. Girls were pitched against each other and themselves.

Nobody taught us how to fend for ourselves in a world dominated by men. All I saw was them teaching us how to be docile and soft spoken but I think it was pretty useless because it didn’t stop the boys in my van calling the other girl fat till she was reduced to tears and a broken self-esteem. All I saw was the hypocrisy and how unfair it was for a teacher to scold us for being ‘too loud’ while the boys at the back of the bus called them ‘fuckers’.

But I can’t truly blame the teachers because they were women. And in front of a boy’s ego, they were nothing.

I grew up watching how girls were forced to hate themselves for not being pretty enough, for not being smart enough, for not having any boy friends, for having too many boyfriends, for being thin, for being fat, for being human and most importantly, for being a girl.

Growing up, for me, was hard, because I was afraid of what I might find on the other side of adolescence. Now that I am here, I see nothing great. Maybe, that’s why I am a feminist – because I don’t want another little girl to grow up thinking she’s not worth a boy’s life.

Which is why this blog is important to me. So that I can bring about a change in my own tiny way by making people’s voice heard. So that no other girl is forced to hate herself or girls around her just because of social conditioning.

The F Word, therefore, stands on a line between rebellion and revolution. A rebellion towards anything unjust, anti-feminist and misogynist and a revolution towards making women matter – making feminism matter.

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2 responses to “The Story Behind The F Word | Part 2”

Dude! Just made a really strong feeling rise in my chest. It’s a fire to punch someone, mingled with an overwhelming pride for both you.. 😘
The feelings expressed here are what all of us feel everyday, I think. And yet, we’re so scared to voice out our fears. I hope all those who read this blog find inspiration to fight their own fight. Good luck to both of you! ❤